Bio Weapon Dystopia

Vomi climbed into the Mahir Supron, which was way more than your standard van from Cyberpunk 2077. This one had been modded to fit five band members and all their gear. The moment the doors shut, the group blasted a rock track on the radio—some heavy beats, not Samurai but with the same kind of energy. Vomi, though, sat there a bit awkwardly, feeling out of place. She didn’t know most of these people besides Thiago.

Raven, the lead singer, noticed her silence and decided to drag her into the conversation. “So, I didn’t ask earlier, but why do you still wear glasses when you’ve got optics?”

Vomi blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, these? I’ve had them since before I chipped in. Feels weird not wearing them.”

And it wouldn’t be her without them. Android 21 vibes and all.

“I get that,” Blaze, the guitarist, chimed in, flexing his chrome arms. “I don’t really need my gloves, but I feel naked without ‘em. Blaze, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Blaze.” Vomi smiled, feeling a little more comfortable.

Then the bassist, tuning his guitar, asked, “And what about that cat on your shoulder?”

“Vang?” Vomi glanced at the symbiote who was lounging lazily on her shoulder. “He’s kind of my partner in crime. Never leaves my side.”

Raven grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Nice pussy.”

“Excuse you?!” Vomi snapped, face flushing.

The whole van erupted into laughter, with Thiago wheezing as he tried to breathe. “Oh man, you’re way too easy to mess with!”

“Gonk!” Vomi hissed, crossing her arms, but her irritation only made them laugh harder.

The bassist wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m Nieme Coby, but everyone calls me Nico.”

“No one calls you Nico,” Blaze interrupted, shaking his head.

“All my real friends do.”

“Bro, all your friends are in this van,” the drummer, who had been mostly quiet till now, deadpanned. “And none of us calls you Nico.”

Nieme raised a fist dramatically. “Just you wait! The name Nico will echo through all of Rockerboy culture!”

The drummer gave him a flat look. “Your name sounds like a PonPon Shit remix.”

“Fuck you!”

Vomi couldn’t help but crack up at the banter. This group was nova, and the vibe was laid-back and fun. Vanguard meowed and leaped down from her shoulder into her lap, and Raven noticed.

“We don’t really have a mascot,” Raven mused. “Maybe your little Vang here could be hired. What do you think?”

Vomi grinned, scratching behind Vanguard’s ear. “What do you say, Vang? You up for it?”

Vang’s response was a swift slap to her hand.

“Guess not,” Vomi sighed.

“Shame,” Raven chuckled. “Alright, we’re here.”

Vomi glanced out the window and realized they’d pulled up in front of a gun store. “What are we doing here?”

Blaze scoffed, “What else do you do at a gun store? Shoot stuff, duh.”

“She didn’t know we were coming here,” Thiago explained as they all piled out of the van. “I only told her about the music.”

“I’m very interested,” Vomi cut in, holding up her Nue. “Just got this baby modded. Perfect time to test it.”

Raven gave her a wicked grin, adjusting her grip on her Copperhead. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Time to place some bets!”

“Bets?” Vomi raised an eyebrow as Vanguard jumped back onto her shoulder, tail flicking.

“Who’s gonna score the most points,” the drummer, now identified as Heitor, explained. His earlier boredom had faded, and now he looked more engaged.

“Don’t worry, Heitor, you’ll get your eddies back,” Blaze teased, clapping Heitor on the back.

The group entered the gun store, where the owner nodded at them—a clear sign they were regulars here. Guns in hand, the band got ready.

Raven smirked, inspecting her SMG. “Alright, chooms. How about 500 eddies for who leads in headshots? We got plenty of cash from the gig.”

Vomi couldn’t help but smile as she checked her Nue’s sights. Maybe she wasn’t so out of place after all.

“Let’s do this,” she said, loading her mag.

“Warm up?”, Thiago asked as he held up a DR5 Nova revolver, “Been a while since I got to shoot my baby.”

“Sure, five minutes each. Take a lane and enjoy!”, Raven said as she immediately turned and selected the hardest difficulty on her lane.

The group spread out across the shooting lanes, each of them quickly getting into the zone. Vomi picked her spot, slipping on some ear protection. The atmosphere in the gun store was electric, the sound of magazines being loaded and weapons clicking into place setting the stage for their little competition.

Raven, of course, went straight for the hardest difficulty on the target system, unleashing a barrage from her Copperhead. The rapid tat-tat-tat of her SMG filled the room, her aim precise, every headshot adding more to her imaginary pile of eddies.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Nieme shouted, grabbing a shotgun off the rack. He pumped the action and began blasting away at his own targets, each booming shot shaking the floor. His wide grin was infectious, his competitiveness cranking up the energy in the room.

Thiago, more composed, was lining up careful shots with his DR5 Nova revolver. “Been a while since I gave my baby a real workout,” he said with a sly grin before squeezing the trigger. The heavy BOOM from his revolver echoed through the store, the recoil forcing his arm to rise slightly with each shot.

Vomi, however, took her time, making sure her newly modded Nue was up to snuff. She wasn’t about to rush it, especially not after what happened last time with Weapon Glitch. Her targets popped up, and with a swift motion, she raised her gun, feeling the smoothness of the trigger pull after her modifications. The first shot rang out, the bullet hitting dead center in the target’s head.

She grinned, feeling a sense of satisfaction. The mods were working perfectly.

Vanguard, watching the chaos unfold from his perch on her shoulder, flicked his tail lazily. “Not bad for a scientist,” he purred. “But you’re still behind the others.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Vomi muttered, adjusting her grip as she fired again, this time landing another clean shot.

Heitor, the drummer, who had been silent for most of the ride, was quietly dominating his lane. His skill with firearms surprised Vomi—he moved with a kind of silent precision, each shot controlled, deliberate, as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

“Damn, Heitor’s a beast,” Vomi whispered, watching as he effortlessly hit each target.

“He’s got some military background,” Thiago replied, taking a quick break to reload. “Doesn’t talk about it much, but he’s not just here for the beats.”

The warm-up session continued, with everyone trying to outdo each other. Raven was holding onto her lead, but Nieme was closing in fast, his shotgun blasts tearing through targets at an impressive rate. Vomi kept at it, steadily improving her score as she got more comfortable with her upgraded Nue.

After a few more minutes, Raven called out, “Alright, chooms, time’s up! Let’s see who owes who!”

Everyone stepped back from their lanes, checking the scores on the boards. Raven, of course, had racked up the highest number of headshots, grinning from ear to ear as she turned to the others. “500 eddies each, pay up!”

Nieme groaned, shaking his head. “I was so close! You rigged that somehow.”

Raven winked. “Skill, choom. Pure skill.”

Thiago chuckled, pulling out his credchip. “Fair is fair.”

Vomi, still high on the adrenaline, couldn’t help but smirk. “Next time, Raven, I’m taking that top spot.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I’d like to see you try, gal.”

As they exited the range, the tension from before had completely evaporated. Vomi felt more at ease with the group, the shared experience of competition and laughter breaking through any lingering awkwardness.

“So, Vomi,” Raven said as they headed back to the van. “You think you’re ready for the real thing now? There’s another gig tomorrow night. A little more… hands-on.”

Vomi thought for a moment, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the grip of her Nue. “Hands-on? Like running another hustle?”

“More like a job,” Thiago said, sliding into the driver's seat. “Quick stuff. Just make some noise while the main crew does their thing.”

Vomi looked around at the crew—these strangers that, somehow, didn’t feel so much like strangers anymore. She had her doubts, but a part of her was itching for something more.

“I really shouldn't, but… Ah, fuck it. Let's go.”

“Hell yeah!”, The entire crew said at the same time, even Heitor.

It was a delivery convoy. The only thing they needed to do was make them divert from their original route and make as much noise as possible. Since none of them besides Vomi can deal with the Net and the Cyberspace, they are all wearing masks to conceal their identity. They parked the Mahir Supron on the sidewalk where the Intel told them where the convoy would pass, so they mostly sat down and waited.

“You guys down for some noodles?”, Blaze asked as his chrome fingers tapped the van's door.

“Pass.”, Heitor said.

“Yup.”, Raven replied as she puffed smoke out of her cigarette.

“Sure.”, Nieme agreed.

“I can go for a cup, yes.”, Thiago said as he played on a tablet, some game about space travel.

Vomi just hummed positively, enough of an answer as she was watching the traffic cameras on her laptop.

The wait stretched on, but the crew kept their cool. Vomi remained focused on the feed from the traffic cams, eyes darting across the screen. The convoy hadn’t appeared yet, but it was only a matter of time. She could feel Vanguard shifting on her shoulder, the cat seemingly more alert than usual.

Blaze returned with a couple of noodle cups, passing them out. “Here ya go. Enjoy while it lasts.”

Thiago barely looked up from his game as he grabbed his cup. “Thanks, choom.”

Vomi took her own cup, but her mind was elsewhere. She had set up a few basic scripts, ready to deploy the second the convoy got within range. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, anticipation building.

“Got eyes yet?” Raven asked from the back, her mask resting on her lap as she absentmindedly spun her Copperhead in her hands.

“Not yet. Soon though,” Vomi replied, sipping her noodles between sentences. “Traffic’s steady. Shouldn’t be long now.”

They ate in relative silence for a few more minutes, the tension thickening with every passing second. Then, finally, Vomi’s screen lit up. She zoomed in on one of the feeds, spotting the convoy of armored trucks weaving through traffic.

“Got them. Heading our way.”

The crew immediately perked up, tossing aside their cups and pulling their masks back on. Vomi’s fingers flew across the keyboard, executing the first phase of their plan.

“I’m breaching their system now. Give me a second.”

She sent out a ping, the signal infiltrating the convoy’s weak security. A map of the convoy’s route appeared on her screen, showing real-time updates on their position and security systems.

“Alright, I’ve got access. Gonna redirect them… now.”

A few keystrokes later, the convoy’s GPS adjusted, rerouting them to a side street. Vomi grinned, satisfied. “We’re in. They’ll be passing by in two minutes. Let’s make some noise.”

Raven and Nieme hopped out of the van, guns ready. Blaze stayed close by, checking his chrome arms, while Thiago readied the van for a quick getaway.

“They’ll be confused as shit once they realize the detour,” Vomi said, closing her laptop and grabbing her Nue. She and Vanguard stepped out of the van, ready to back the team up.

“Perfect. Let’s hit ‘em hard and fast,” Raven said, leading the charge.

The convoy turned onto the street just as planned, three armored trucks rolling slowly down the narrow road. Raven took the first shot, shattering the windshield of the lead truck with a precise burst from her Copperhead. The convoy immediately screeched to a halt, alarms blaring as the drivers scrambled for cover.

Vomi stayed back, hacking into their systems to disable the alarms while the others moved in, guns blazing. Nieme blasted a truck’s door off its hinges with his shotgun, while Heitor picked off the guards with deadly accuracy.

One of the guards rushed forward, firing wildly, but Vomi quickly sent a command to lock his weapon, causing it to jam. He stood there, confused for a split second, before Raven took him down with a single shot.

“Nice work, Vomi!” Thiago shouted from the van, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any incoming threats.

The crew made quick work of the convoy, securing the cargo they had come for—high-end electronics and valuable chips. Vomi kept the digital chaos running, jamming any signals the guards might try to send out for backup.

“Got the goods. Let’s roll!” Blaze called out, loading the last crate into the van.

Vomi gave one last glance at her screen, ensuring their exit would be clear. “Alright, we’re good. Let’s move!”

They piled into the van, the sound of sirens starting to wail in the distance. Thiago floored it, peeling out of the alley and merging back into the city’s chaos.

As they sped away, Raven pulled off her mask and grinned at Vomi. “Not bad for your first real job, eh?”

Vomi smiled, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “My first job with a crew, yeah.”

Vanguard, now perched comfortably on her lap, let out a satisfied purr.

“Looks like you’re one of us now,” Nieme said, his grin wide.

“Don't call it success now.”, Thiago warned, his feet full in the gas pedal, “Our gig isn't finished. They are confused, but they aren't stupid.”

“Yeah, they won't stop at just one convoy.”, Raven sounded way more serious now, checking the map Vomi shared when hacking the systems, “They can get on our tail if we aren't careful.”

“Can't delta too fast.” Heitor said, picking up a sniper, “Draws attention.”

Vomi opened her laptop again, typing furiously as she checked every traffic camera, “I'm gonna black out the cameras. See if we can stay in the dark.”

“Good call.”, Nieme admitted, surprised no one thought about it before, “That's why you are our Netrunner.”

“You can thank Thiago.”, Vomi replied offhandedly, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“Thanks, Thiago.”

Thiago scoffed, “Don't mention it.”

“Slow the van. Movement on the left. Go traffic speed.”

As soon as Vomi said that, Thiago braked as casually as possible to seem like another van in the streets, blending along the traffic.

The van slowed, blending seamlessly into the sea of cars. The tension inside was palpable, but Vomi kept her focus on her laptop. She tapped into the nearby cameras, feeding false data back to the city’s grid and effectively hiding their presence.

“Cameras are down, but we’ve got company.” Vomi’s voice was calm, though her pulse quickened. “They’re scanning the streets. Probably running plates and scanning faces.”

“Shit,” Raven muttered, pulling her mask back up. “How many?”

“Two interceptors, unmarked.” Vomi brought up a map on her screen, highlighting the tailing vehicles. “They’re trying to act casual, but they’re definitely after us.”

“Guess they didn’t buy our detour trick,” Blaze said, checking his gun. “What’s the plan?”

Vomi’s fingers danced over the keys, her mind racing. She had to think fast. “I’m going to reroute them again. Make them think we’re heading in another direction.”

“Better do it quick. They’re getting closer,” Heitor said, his sniper rifle held steady, ready in case things went south.

Vomi sent a few quick commands, spoofing the van’s location to a distant part of the city. It would buy them time, but she knew it wouldn’t last long.

“They think we’re headed to the docks now,” she said, glancing up. “That’ll give us a few minutes to get out of this area. But we need to move, and fast.”

Thiago nodded, carefully accelerating the van. “Copy that. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The van weaved through the crowded streets, but the tension never left. Every second felt like a countdown until the interceptors caught on.

As they crossed into a quieter part of the city, Vomi noticed a blip on her radar. “Wait—one of them’s heading our way again. They’re not falling for the docks trick.”

“Of course they aren’t,” Raven said, leaning forward. “Looks like we’ll have to deal with them directly.”

Heitor checked his sniper, his usual calmness hiding the tension. “Take them out from here or wait?”

Vomi scanned the area. “There’s a narrow alley two blocks ahead. We can funnel them in if we time it right. I’ll jam their signals once we get there.”

“Good thinking,” Raven nodded. “Thiago, you heard her. Two blocks.”

“Got it,” Thiago replied, adjusting course toward the alley.

The crew readied their weapons, preparing for the inevitable fight. The seconds ticked by as they neared the alley, the sound of the city fading into the background as everyone focused on what was coming.

“They’re almost on us,” Nieme said, gripping his shotgun tightly.

“Wait for it…” Raven instructed.

The moment they hit the alley, Vomi fired off a quick hack, cutting off the interceptors’ communications and freezing their systems. One of the vehicles swerved, struggling to stay in control.

“Now!” Raven shouted.

Heitor leaned out the back window, his sniper aimed at the lead interceptor. With a single, precise shot, he took out the driver, sending the car crashing into the side of a building.

The second vehicle tried to recover, but Blaze was already out of the van, unloading rounds from his chromed arm. The sound of gunfire echoed in the alley as the interceptor skidded to a stop, its tires blown out.

Raven and Nieme joined Blaze, finishing off the remaining operatives before they could react. The entire exchange lasted less than a minute, but the crew moved with ruthless efficiency.

“Clear,” Blaze called out, dusting off his hands.

Vomi glanced at her laptop. “No more signals on us. We’re in the clear for now.”

“Nice work, chooms,” Raven said, her grin back as she slung her SMG over her shoulder. “Let’s get the loot to the buyer before anyone else shows up.”

Thiago got back behind the wheel as the crew reloaded into the van. Vomi took a deep breath, finally allowing herself to relax a little.

Vanguard meowed softly, nuzzling her cheek. She smiled and scratched behind his ears, the adrenaline finally fading.

“Not bad for my first real run, huh?” Vomi said, glancing around at the team.

“Not bad at all,” Raven agreed, her voice laced with approval. “You’re officially one of us now, Vomi.”

Vomi leaned back in her seat, a sense of belonging settling in. She had found her place among these misfits, and for once, it felt right.

They went to a warehouse near the economic area of San Francisco. It was a place where both houses, apartments, Megabuildings and stores could blend in and be unnoticed, even doing things in broad daylight. The warehouse was, funnily enough, the place where the band rehearses their songs, as a bunch of empty beer bottles, old music boxes and the edit room were. Thiago parked the van inside, Blaze, Nieme and Heitor unloading the boxes of cargo they stole. Raven just went to the nearby XXL Burrito vending machine and bought one for everyone. Thiago went immediately to the fridge to pick up beer for everyone too.

“Buyer will come tomorrow, so the success of the gig will be postponed until we get paid.”, Raven commented as she gave the burritos to everyone, “Still, good job everyone.”

“You say that because you won 500 eddies more than everyone else.”, Blaze deadpanned.

“I didn't recover mine.”, Heitor sighed depressively.

“There there.”, Nieme patted the drummer’s back.

“Relax, chooms.”, Thiago offered the beer bottles as he took a big swig of it, “We made it! And the eddies are welcome.”

“Can't argue with that.”, Vomi smiled as she sat down to eat her burrito.

Vomi took a bite of her burrito, the warm spices cutting through the chill of the warehouse. The others were chatting, winding down after the heist, but her mind was still racing from the adrenaline and the rush of pulling off something so big. She hadn’t felt this alive in a long time—doing gigs for corps never gave her this kind of high.

Vanguard curled up beside her, content now that the action was over. His soft purring was a strange contrast to the hard edges of the environment around them—the cargo, the guns, and the eddies that were all part of this new life she’d found herself in.

“Thinking about the next job already?” Raven asked, plopping down next to her with a smirk.

Vomi chuckled, “Guess I’m not used to the downtime yet. This is a little different from my usual gig, but I like it. Feels… real.”

“That’s the best part,” Raven said, cracking open her beer. “When you’re on stage or in the field, there’s no buffer, no corporate agenda. It’s just you, the crew, and the world trying to screw you over.”

Vomi nodded, taking another bite of her burrito. She liked the sound of that. No corporate bullshit, no fancy contracts—just a crew and a job.

Thiago flopped down on an old couch across from them, feet up on the armrest. “So, Vomi, you sticking with us for a while or you gonna run back to your cushy lab life?”

“Cushy isn’t the word I’d use,” Vomi said, smirking as she wiped her mouth. “But yeah, I’m in. This is way more fun than slaving away for some corpo that doesn’t give a damn.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” Blaze called over, already halfway through his second beer. “You got skills, Vomi. Think you’ll fit in real nice.”

Heitor, still quietly sulking over his lost eddies, gave a begrudging nod. “We could use a good Netrunner.”

“Especially one who can pull off what you did back there,” Nieme added. “That was smooth.”

Vomi felt her cheeks flush a little, not used to this kind of praise. She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just doing my part. You guys are pretty nova yourselves.”

Raven nudged her with an elbow. “You’re officially part of the crew now, so don’t go getting all modest on us. We’ve got bigger gigs to plan. You in?”

Vomi looked around at the team—Raven, Thiago, Blaze, Nieme, and even Heitor, who finally cracked a small smile. This felt different from anything she’d been part of before. It felt like family, in a twisted, cyberpunk way.

“I’m in,” she said firmly, smiling. “Let’s see where this takes us.”

Raven grinned, raising her beer. “To bigger gigs, more eddies, and less gonk corpo jobs.”

“I suppose you won't save the corpo anymore?”, Vanguard pulsed a thought, although he didn't judge her.

Oh yeah, she almost forgot about that.

“I do have a job in the HuscleNet though.”, She pointed out, much to Raven's annoyance.

“Really? That place is full of corpo bullshit.”, She crossed her arms, frown deep in her face.

The way she drank the entire bottle afterwards was concerning.

“What's the gig about?”, Blaze asked, minor curiosity surpassing his displeasure.

“Some Analytics Corpo got kidnapped, worked for M-Tech. I did a job interview for them this morning so I could help with that while investigating his case.”, Vomi explained, crossing her legs, much to Vanguard's annoyance, “It pays good, can make good connections.”

“And put a target on your back.”, Nieme pointed out, bottle still in his hands, “Can't trust a corpo, no one can.”

“It's just a one-time gig.”, Vomi tried to play it down.

“You did an interview.”, Heitor mentioned, his face almost grimacing, “Fate is settled.”

“I have to agree with him.”, Thiago crossed his arms, tilting his head, wrapping the situation, “M-Tech isn't the kind of corporation to just let ‘valuable assets’ leave their possession.”

Thiago made sure to put emphasis on “valuable assets”.

“You should delta as soon as you can, gal.”, Raven gave a tired sigh, “Nothing good comes out of them.”

“You can do the gig, but you will take risks.”, Blaze added, “One of them is that you won't hang around with us.”

“You really hate corpos that much?”, Vomi asked, and everyone scoffed.

“Who the fuck doesn't?”, Nieme replied bluntly, “All they care about is their power and control.”

Vomi sat back, letting the gravity of their words settle in. The anti-corporate sentiment was thick in the air, and she could feel the tension rising. For a moment, she glanced at Vanguard, who offered no input this time, simply watching with those sharp feline eyes.

"Look, it's not like I'm signing a long-term contract," Vomi said, her tone defensive but calm. "It’s a job. In and out. I have no interest in getting tangled up in corporate politics. I’ve worked with corps before, but I’ve always made sure to keep my distance."

Raven’s frown deepened, and she tossed her empty beer bottle aside with a sharp clink. “That’s what everyone says. ‘In and out,’ like it’s just another gig. Until you find yourself buried under their boot, running gigs just to survive.”

Blaze nodded, his arms crossed. “They’ve got their claws in everything. One small favor for a corpo, and next thing you know, they own you.”

Heitor, still sulking but more engaged now, spoke up. “You can’t walk away clean. No one does.”

Vomi let out a long breath, feeling the weight of their distrust. They weren’t wrong. The corpos could be relentless, and even though she had a good sense of self-preservation, this wasn't her first dance with a megacorp. But still, she needed to balance survival with the connections she’d built in her professional life.

“I get where you’re coming from, I really do,” Vomi said, looking each of them in the eye. “But this gig? It’s a calculated risk. One job, then I’m out. It pays, and I can help someone who’s in deep shit. That’s worth something.”

Thiago leaned back, tipping his beer bottle towards her. “Just don’t expect us to come bail you out if shit goes sideways. If you get burned by M-Tech, you’re on your own.”

The others murmured their agreement, the room settling into a heavier silence. It was clear they were wary, but Vomi also saw something else—concern. They didn’t want to lose her to the corporate grind. Not after she had finally found her way into their tight-knit group.

“Fair enough,” Vomi replied. “But I’m not planning on getting burned. I’m good at what I do. I’ll finish the job, get paid, and walk away. No strings.”

Raven grunted, clearly still displeased but not wanting to argue further. “Alright. But watch your back. We’ve lost too many good people to corpo bullshit.”

Vomi gave a small nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I will. And after this gig, I’m all in. No more corpo jobs, no more distractions."

The group seemed to accept that, even if reluctantly. Blaze uncrossed his arms, Nieme took another swig of his beer, and Raven lit another cigarette, puffing away the last of her frustration.

"Just make sure you come back in one piece," Nieme said with a lopsided grin. "We need you for the next gig."

"Count on it," Vomi replied, a determined glint in her eyes.

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics—music, future plans, and some idle banter about Heitor’s terrible luck with bets—Vomi couldn’t help but feel the weight of her decision. She had one foot in two worlds, and it was becoming increasingly clear that sooner or later, she’d have to pick a side.

For now, though, she was focused on the job ahead. And she’d make sure to see it through, with or without her crew’s approval.

Vanguard, still perched on her lap, gave a soft purr of approval as if sensing her resolve.

This time, Vomi remembered what happened last night. Didn't stumble on her way out of bed, didn't crash while taking a shower and actually wore something corpo-like. The reason? She was invited to M-Tech, do the cyber security job and was already informed she could work the gig she was doing for HustleNet. All good so far, but something else was needed.

And it was safety.

Nue in a very hidden holster and a tablet with single use quick hacks ready, she wore her lab coat over the suit and drove her Colby to the corporate building. Of course, the Nomad car drew attention, but she was here on merit, not on looks.

As Vomi approached the towering corporate building, its sleek, reflective exterior gleaming under the sun, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease crawling up her spine. Even though she was technically on "business," stepping into a megacorp's territory was never without risks. She parked the Colby and stepped out, adjusting her lab coat over the suit. Her hand instinctively brushed over the hidden holster where her Nue rested—her silent insurance policy.

Vanguard, of course, merged back together with Vomi. Better to have all security measures when needed.

As she walked toward the main entrance, the street buzzed with corpo drones, street vendors, and the ever-watchful cameras mounted at every angle. A reminder of the constant surveillance she was about to step into.

She entered the lobby, a cold, sterile space that smelled of freshly cleaned marble floors and money. The receptionist greeted her with a mechanical smile.

“Ms. Vomi, correct? You’re expected on the 43rd floor. Mr. Graves will meet you there.”

Vomi nodded, keeping her expression neutral. Her mind was already working through multiple scenarios, exits, and contingencies. She didn't trust M-Tech, and she definitely didn’t trust Mr. Graves. Corpo suits were the same no matter how much tech they wrapped themselves in.

As she stepped into the elevator, she tapped her tablet subtly, running a quick sweep of the building’s internal network. The signal was clean so far, but she knew better than to let her guard down. The smooth hum of the elevator calmed her nerves slightly, but the pressure in the pit of her stomach remained.

When the doors slid open to reveal the sprawling office floor, her eyes were immediately drawn to the glass walls and the dozen or so corpo execs milling around, buried in their own conversations. The glass gave the illusion of openness, but Vomi knew it was more like a high-tech fishbowl where every move could be watched.

A tall, well-dressed man stood by a massive desk near the far end of the floor. He had the polished look of someone who had risen high in the corpo ranks—sharp suit, even sharper eyes.

“Ms. Vomi,” Mr. Graves greeted, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. I trust the journey wasn’t too much trouble?”

“None at all,” Vomi replied, shaking his hand briefly, her grip firm. “Just here to do the job.”

“Good, that’s what we like to hear,” Graves replied with a thin smile, motioning for her to follow him. “This way, please. The brief is straightforward, but the task… well, it will require someone of your specific talents.”

As they walked through the floor, she could feel eyes on her—other corpo types assessing her, sizing her up. She ignored it, focusing instead on Graves’ words and the environment around her. Every detail mattered.

They entered a conference room, where a digital display of a map with multiple red markers popped up on the screen. Graves gestured towards it.

“This,” he began, “is a series of ongoing intrusions in our lower-tier security networks. Normally, we’d handle this in-house, but these hackers have… a certain finesse that our internal team has struggled to counter. That’s where you come in.”

Vomi looked at the map, recognizing some of the patterns. “Blackwall breaches?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Graves nodded, his expression slightly impressed. “Very observant. Yes, it seems someone is testing the limits, and we suspect they’re aiming for something deeper.”

Vomi bit her lip, considering. “What’s the target?”

Graves’ smile faded, replaced by a more serious tone. “That’s what we need to find out. They’ve been probing, nothing critical yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Vomi leaned back slightly. “So, you want me to patch up your leaks and identify the intruders?”

“Precisely. We’ve set up a secure terminal for you. The sooner we can plug the gaps, the better.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “And, of course, this is highly sensitive. You’ll be well compensated for your discretion.”

Vomi’s eyes narrowed slightly. "I assume by 'discretion,' you mean not sharing any of this with HustleNet?"

Graves gave a thin smile. "We appreciate your understanding."

Vomi nodded, but her mind was already spinning, processing the job, the risks, and the invisible web she was walking into. She followed Graves to the terminal room where she would begin the operation, but something about this felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a standard breach.

And she was going to find out exactly what that was—on her terms.